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Blue Wren vs Fly

Ten Blue Wrens: And What a Lot of Wattle! Sitting on the deck with Jai (5.5 years young) in my lap, I wondered if I was going to snap a decent photograph of the blue-wrens about 3 metres away.

“Daddy, can you photograph that fly?”

I turn to photograph it, but as I do – the small blue wren flutters onto the deck, snaps at the same fly, it falls from its roost, and the bird snapped it right out of the air, swallowing it whole.

I couldn’t photograph that moment, it all happened so fast. But I did snap a few shots of the blue wren standing content after a quick feed.

Jai was still in my lap. As I am capturing the posing blue-wren, Jai starts blubbering….

“Oh dear, I am never going to see that fly ever ever ever again! {crying and wailing} I want that fly! Why didn’t you photograph it sooner?!” He is surprisingly articulate.

I shake my head and say “But dude, buddy, I got some great photos of the blue wren!”

“I don’t care about the blue wren! I want a photo of a fly!”

“Dude, There are ten trillion trillion trillion fly’s on the planet. Blue wrens are rare!”

The conversation ended as he went off crying. The blue-wren flew over and sat beside me and cocked his head to one side as if to say “Yeah, kids, they are not easy!”

Check out my shots below:

Blue Wren on Deck

Blue Wren Hunting Lunch

Blue Wren Sits Close

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The Trouble with Games

The funnestestest game of all.


“Daddy, can I have that game? I will give you a cuddle if you do!”

‘That game’ was moved to the highest point of my bookshelf a few days ago after an unfortunate mistake by him resulted in an little boy getting very angry with his parents for not playing his way.

“What answer did I give you the last twenty billion times you asked?” 

Long pause.

“Daddy, can I have that game?”

Sigh. This is getting ridiculous. Yes, I really should put it out right out of sight and out of his mind. He is starting to drive me out of my mind! 

“What do you think my answer will be?” (#facepalm. That was a dumb question.)

“YES!”

“You are about to be very disappointed.”

“Dis…dissa…poin…ted?”

“Very sad.”

“Awwww!”

(30 seconds later)

“Daddy, can I have that game?”

“Nope.” 

By this time, I am typing this post whilst responding to him. Lots of copy, paste, paste, paste, ad infinitum…

“Daddy, can I have that game?”

“Nope.” 

“Daddy, can I have that game?”

“Nope.” 

“Daddy, can I have that game?”

“Nope.” 

“Daddy, can I have that game?”

“Nope.” 

I, seriously, could go on. Wait, he’s changed the question. 

“Daddy, could you lift me about this high?” Raises hand, I perceive he has it in line with his eyes and top of shelf. Sigh. Going to draw his bluff, yet fool him. 

I wil let you know how ‘this game’ turns out. Cute kid is now cuddling me from behind. Still not getting the game. At least not right now.


Parents will testify. What would you have done?

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Intensity 

In a fit of intense anger (with me because I wouldn’t let him do something) my 19mo son picked up an 10pack of cans (that’s 3kilos) and threw it about half a metre. Then he threw all his two favorite toy cars across the lounge room.

I don’t negotiate with terrorists. Or little terrors. We tolerate and wait it out.

He has just walked over to me with another toy  … and has silently offered it to me. We have a truce.

He threw another fit of rage before his bath. I’ve now stretched every muscle in my back. He is one tough little man.

And now he is asleep. My beautiful blue eyed boy was very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very tired.